


The Yule Ball

by Isscha



Series: 30 Days of Flash Fiction 2018 [6]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Gen, Hogwarts Fourth Year, M/M, Yule Ball (Harry Potter)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-07
Updated: 2018-11-07
Packaged: 2019-08-20 00:09:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,489
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16544993
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Isscha/pseuds/Isscha
Summary: He still held a fear that Malfoy had not been serious about the offer, and he was about to be humiliated for thinking anyone could ever be interested in him, let alone someone like Malfoy.  Alternate 4th year Yule Ball





	The Yule Ball

“Harry, honestly, he won't stand you up.  You need to stop panicking.”

 

He bats away the Weasley twin’s enchanted party balloon from in front of his face, mildly impressed that it’s still there from celebrations after the first task, and scowls at his best female friend.  

 

“Hermione, honestly, it isn't you he is going to stand up.  You don’t have to open the ball with the other three champions.  You aren’t the one who is risking utter humiliation!”  Why, oh why did he say yes?  This waiting and uncertainty is torture, and it’s all for what? The chance to be abandoned by someone he never should have trusted at his word?

 

The look she’s giving him would be able to melt steel and he finds he’s still not immune to it when he hunches his shoulders and frowns in response.  “Harry. He asked you in front of everyone in the Great Hall the moment the Headmaster stopped talking about the dancing lessons. If he stands you up, he’s humiliating himself.”  

 

The memory brings a smile to his face.  The moment the Headmaster had ceased talking and sat down to eat his meal, Draco Malfoy had whispered a bit with Parkinson and Zabini before straightening up and looking straight at Harry.  He had blinked in surprise when the blond stood fluidly and stalked towards him under the eye of nearly every single person in the hall. Harry hadn’t been sure what to expect, but for Malfoy to say in a clear, loud voice that it would be his pleasure if Harry would escort him to the ball certainly wasn't it.

 

He hadn’t said that he would be _honored_ to attend with Harry, as if he was doing him some big favor, but instead implied that he _wanted_ to attend with Harry as a personal desire.

 

And isn’t that an odd way to ask your _rival_ to a dance?

 

Harry doesn’t know, he’s never been to a dance before, nor has he been asked out rival or otherwise, so he has absolutely no frame of reference to compare with.  He resumes his pacing in the common room, and tries to ignore Hermione’s eye roll.

 

“I’m going to meet Victor now.  Ronald, the twins are waiting for you!”  She turns to yell this last part up the stairs to their one remaining member of their group.  Padma and Parvarti are in the Ravenclaw dorms readying themselves. Ron had asked the pair if they wanted a date, and they had told him only if he were willing to take both girls.  To everyone’s surprise, Ron agreed with an easy smile.

 

Harry wonders if the delay is being caused by the fact Ron absolutely hates his lace edged, family heirloom dance robes.  “Ron, seriously mate.” He adds when there’s no response other than a wordless groan of agony. Definitely hating the robes still.  “I’m leaving with ‘Mione. Merlin knows what McGonagall will do if I’m late.”

 

Or Draco, for that matter.  

 

Draco had insisted on meeting Harry at the doors, and this only adds to his sense of paranoia that he is about to be left hanging high and dry, the laughingstock of Hogwarts once again.  

 

Ron calls down from the dorms, and Harry can barely make him out.  “Just go, I’m supposed to pick the girls up at Ravenclaw, so I’ll just meet you in there.”

 

Harry doesn’t bother replying, he knows Ron isn’t listening for one anyway, and follows Hermione out through the portrait.  “I’m meeting Victor with the other champions and their dates.” She says as she loops an arm through his. She looks very lovely in her periwinkle dress, and has somehow managed to tame her wild hair enough to twist and clip it up elegantly with silver, glittering pins.

 

“He’s going to drool when he sees you.”  He teases with a grin, leaning against the balustrade of the stairs as they wait for the staircase to settle so they can continue their way down.  She rolls her eyes at him but blushes regardless. “You’ll have to bring a mop with you for the opening dance so no one slips after you’re done.” He continues despite her narrowed eyes and silent exasperation at his teasing as they hit the main landing and make their way in the direction of the Great Hall where he can already hear people milling about excitedly.  

 

“Shut up, Harry.”  Hermione hisses as they round the corner to see Victor as well as Fleur, Cedric, and their dates already waiting.  All three headmasters were there as well, along with his and Cedric’s heads of houses. Harry bites back a smirk at Victor’s clearly besotted smirk and resists the urge to nudge her with his elbow.  Her flush is back in full force and he slips away so they can greet each other properly.

 

Attempting to appear nonchalant, he looks around at the paths of elegantly dressed students making their beautiful ways into the hall.  He’s certain it’s beautiful; it always is around Christmas. He tries to ignore the flickering glances from Hermione as the minutes tick by without any sign of white blond hair and he valiantly attempts to not care.

 

“Mister Potter, we cannot begin until you have your date.”  Professor McGonagall startles him when she suddenly appears in his line of sight, and her normally stern face is lined with concern that he also tries to ignore.

 

He takes another look around, and when he still doesn’t see Draco, he swallows hard and shrugs.  “What if they stand me up?”

 

The concern turns to pity, and he hates it.  It hates it almost more than he hates Draco for doing this to him.  When will he learn his lesson and start remembering that no one ever has Harry Potter’s best interests in mind?  

 

His morose thoughts are interrupted when he feels a tapping on his shoulder.  Whirling around, he sees nothing and his brow furrows. He knows he felt something...there it is again.  He turns only to once again see nothing, and this time he scowls. The third tap has him grabbing the offending appendage before spinning around to come face to face with a rather pointy crooked grin and sparkling grey eyes and his heart stops.  

 

Draco didn’t stand him up.

 

In fact, Draco is teasing him.  Not only that, but he is _grinning_.  Not smirking, but a genuine grin, like he is happy to see Harry.  No one is happy to see Harry, at least not very many people.

 

“Hello.”  His normally posh snobby voice is breathy and rapid, almost as if he was not just happy to see Harry standing there, but excited.  

 

“Erm, hey.”  He nearly shuffled around in his nervousness, but kept his feet still by fiddling with the edges of his sleeves.  The already bright grey eyes literally shine with happiness, and Harry can’t keep his mouth shut a moment longer. “Why did you ask me?”

 

If anything, Draco’s eyes only brighten and Harry almost wishes he owned a pair sunglasses.  “Because I like you.” He answers simply, as if it were the most obvious answer in the world.    Harry can feel his jaw hit the proverbial floor and only closes his mouth when a long pale finger taps it gently.  “Now, I assume you can’t actually dance and don’t bother lying, I’ve seen how uncoordinated you are on the ground. Don’t worry, I’m very well skilled in many dances and can even lead you in a way that hides that I’m leading.”

 

It’s so much information in one breath that Harry’s head is spinning.  “You...like me?”

 

Draco huffs an exasperated sigh and nods.  “I might have gone about it all wrong, but I wanted nothing more than to be your friend even after you refused my hand.”

 

“The badges?”  Those idiotic Potter Stinks badges were a part of what has made Hogwarts a living hell since October, and he can’t seem to find any sign of Draco flirting with him at all the past three and a half years.  

 

The blond has the decency to look ashamed.  “I decided at the end of second year that any attention was better than none.”

 

“That explains a lot, actually.”  Harry muses, and laughs when Draco looks affronted.  Before the other boy can reply, however, the four champions are called over to the Great Hall doors by Professor Dumbledore.  Harry’s heart nearly jumps out of his throat when instead of simply following him or holding his arm like Hermione had done, Draco slips his hand around Harry’s and squeezes it.

 

“You made it past a dragon, you’ll make it past the Yule Ball opening dance, and then we’ll get you past the second and third trials.”  His breath is hot against Harry’s ear and it rather tickles, but he ignores all of that to squeeze his hand back.

 

Suddenly, the evening doesn’t seem so daunting after all.  

 

~~*~*~~

End

~~*~*~~

**Author's Note:**

> Day 6 Prompt: a balloon, a ball, balustrades
> 
> Unbeta'd. Doing this for fun. Don't own.
> 
> Etc, etc, etc.
> 
> The 30 Days of Flash Fiction 2018 collection is a collection of one shot flash fictions that are not connected in any fashion. Many will feature Drarry, as well as a variety of other pairings throughout their friends. I aim to post a story daily, though I only promise that I will post all 30 stories at some point - not that I will post them in exactly 30 days. Some stories will be short, some will be long, it all depends on how I respond to the prompt on a particular day.


End file.
